


It's Been A Long, Long Time

by Myalpha



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, First Kiss, Kinda?, M/M, Post CA:TWS, but it all works out kinda fluffy in the end, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myalpha/pseuds/Myalpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Readjusting to ordinary life can be hard, especially when you still barely remember who you are, let alone anything else.</p><p>(Originally I intended to write a fluffy 'Bucky re-learns how to kiss with help from Steve" fic...Then feelings happened and it somehow got a bit of angst and a plot).</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Been A Long, Long Time

There were a lot of things the Winter Soldier still couldn't remember. Because, despite what anyone else kept trying to say, he was still the Winter Soldier – it had been to long for him to be able to become anyone else again. Especially not 'Bucky Barnes', no matter what certain other people might think.

He remembered falling.

He remembered waking up after falling.

Over time, he even remembered flashes of his previous life, flashes of his comrades, and of Steve.

But there was still so much he couldn't remember, and so many things he couldn't remember how to do – things he'd had no need to know how to do for such a very long time. You didn't need to know how to wash dishes, or cook a meal, and especially give or receive a hug when you were just a ruthless killing machine stored away in a cryogenic freezer like good china saved for a special occasion.

\- - -

Captain America... (Steve?) had found him, eventually, after Bucky had dragged him out of the Potomac and left him lying damaged but alive in the dirt. It took a year, but Cap... Steve... had eventually tracked him down to the rundown, abandoned apartment block in Brooklyn he'd taken to squatting in.

He'd hoped that spending some time in Brooklyn would help him reconnect with his past, his roots so to speak.

It didn't really work as well as he'd hoped. Everything was too new, too... wrong. Like the entire neighbourhood had been warped and twisted out of all recognition. Like him, really.

He was tired, and out of ideas, and when Steve tracked him down and practically begged him to reconsider his plan, he relented. (Bucky would later learn that he was pretty much the only person Steve would ever beg to do anything – the man always was too damn stubborn for his own good).

And so the Winter Soldier found himself living in Avengers Tower, with Steve, and his newfound comrade-in-arms Tony Stark. There were others, coming and going, people the Winter Soldier had previously only known from Hydra threat analysis lists – Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Agent Phil Coulson – and some, like Natalia Alianovna Romanova, he already knew.

He still didn't feel safe, or whole, or in control.

But at least he felt... controlled. Controlled was safe. Controlled was good. Controlled meant he couldn't hurt anyone. Controlled was having a phalanx of honest-to-god superheros protecting you from the outside world, and the outside world from you.

It was awkward really, living on Tony Stark's dime. The Winter Soldier (… Bucky?) could tell with absolute certainty that Tony knew about his parents. That he knew what exactly the Winter Soldier's role in their … 'accident'... was. They were both tactful enough never to mention it (or maybe it was pain, rather than tact, which motivated the silence), but the feelings were there – communicated by stony, distrustful glances when Tony thought he wasn't looking.

The Winter Soldier was always looking. 

The Winter Soldier was trained to notice everything - even seemingly harmless glances from corners of eyes. 

The moment he lost sight of all the players on the board, was the very same moment he was dead.

\- - -

Sometimes Steve had to help him with everyday tasks.

It was humiliating, needing help to work out how to turn on the washing machine.

It was more humiliating having to get that help from someone who should, by rights, be more out of the technological loop than he was.

But Steve, he just smiled, and fiddled deftly with the tiny, complicated dials, never saying a word.

\- - -

Sometimes Clint would make a snarky joke – something along the lines of how he had managed to be both a master assassin and capable of ordering pizza over the telephone.

On those occasions, Steve would glower darkly at him and tell him that kind of joke wasn't funny.

Clint would sulk.

Bucky (some times he felt less like the Winter Soldier than others) felt guilty. He deserved the jokes. He didn't deserve protecting.

\- - - 

Sometimes, someone would would accidentally get hurt.

Sometimes, the person who hurt them was the Winter Soldier. (In those moments, he was always the Winter Soldier).

Natasha insisted that it was her fault. That she should have known better than to pad quietly behind him when he was chopping vegetables. She insisted that it didn't matter anyway, and that it was just a scratch.

The Winter Soldier knew better. He should have known better, been better, been more controlled.

Natasha was removed from active duty for three weeks while she recovered.

He barely left his quarters the entire time. 

Steve found a lot of excuses to stay within eyesight of Bucky's door. He found he didn't mind Steve's intrusion. At least someone was making sure he was kept under control.

\- - -

Sometimes, Bucky would have a good day. (On those days, he was always Bucky – or at least as as he possibly could be to him given everything).

Sometimes, he'd even get to almost forget he wasn't a real person anymore, like when Steve took Bucky to Coney Island to ride a roller-coaster called the Thunderbolt. 

Steve seemed to find this very significant. Bucky didn't understand. He felt bad, when Steve was kind of crestfallen, and perhaps understood why when Steve had explained the backstory and joke behind the coaster to him.

Bucky wished he had understood on his own.

It was a suitable mirror of him though, really. An old memory, made new but not the same, never the same. Steve told him they'd torn down the old wooden one from their youth in 2000, when both of them were still on ice. He looked sad, when he was explaining that. 

He explained that this was a brand new version of the roller-coaster, made from steel and rivets rather than wood. He explained that they looked nothing alike, were nothing alike. The newer one was sleeker, stronger, faster. He explained that it was the name of it, and the principle of it that mattered, not the appearance. Bucky thought he might not just be talking about roller-coasters anymore.

Bucky thought the new version lacked authenticity. Bucky felt like the new version was trying to fill shoes it could never come close to filling. Bucky had never empathised with an inanimate object so much.

At the end of the day though, Steve seemed happy, and Bucky had to concede his enjoyment despite everything.

\- - -

Sometimes Natalia would try to set him up on dates.

Bucky had been told by Steve that was something she was in the habit of doing. Steve had told Bucky just to fob off her suggestions. 

Apparently Bucky came into contact with a lot of women for someone who barely ever left the tower.

Sometimes, however, it wasn't that easy. Sometimes Natalia would ask him personal questions when he deflected, or declined, one of her suggestions.

One time, Bucky snapped out that none of her suggestions were anyone he could relate to, that he didn't want to date anyone, and especially not someone he'd have to pretend to be someone else around. He sighed, and attempted to awkwardly apologise (another thing he couldn't really remember), explaining that it wasn't her fault it was hard to find someone with shared life experience. 

Natalia had just smiled. But it wasn't strictly a warm smile. It had a knowing edge, like she'd just stumbled upon a secret.

Bucky didn't always like Natalia. Natalia was difficult to read, difficult to predict. Tactically, Natalia was a wildcard. Bucky didn't like wildcards. Wildcards meant danger.

\- - -

Sometimes Tony would make jokes at his expense.

Most of the time, Tony was smart enough to only do so when Steve wasn't in earshot. Tony was much less impulsive than Clint, in some ways (and much more impulsive in others).

Bucky had done his research (Bucky always did his research). Bucky knew that Tony was a (mostly reformed) playboy. It wasn't a surprise to him that Tony thought it was hilarious that he hadn't been kissed, let alone anything else, in about seventy years.

Bucky didn't think it was very funny. In fact, Bucky just thought it was just another reminder of how broken he was, how much of a poor substitute for a real person he was.

Tony didn't notice Steve had walked in.

Bucky noticed. 

Bucky always noticed. And he especially always noticed Steve.

So he wasn't in the slightest surprised when the cold “... that's really not very amusing, Tony” resonated from the doorway. Tony, now he was surprised. His face turned to an expression of mild panic, before schooling itself into his cocky, devil-may-care grin and attempting to pass it off as a harmless miscalculation.

Bucky had watched enough to know that Steve and Tony didn't really dislike each other – over the time Bucky had been there they'd actually appeared to have grown quite firm friends.

At the same time, however, it was more than evident that Steve wasn't pulling any punches when it came to Bucky. He never did, really, regardless of whether those punches were aimed at him or in defence of him.

But he'd had enough of Steve fighting his battles for him. Something inside him knew it wasn't supposed to be that way. Some small part of him even seemed to think it should be the opposite (which was crazy).

“No, he's right, Steve”, Bucky explained, stepping between the two men, breaking up their line of sight to each other. “There's no harm in saying the truth”.

Steve clenches his jaw. “There is harm when he's saying things which will just hurt you unnecessarily”.

“I'm not some wilting flower needing to be protected, Steve”, Bucky calmly reminded him, as he noted Tony padding quietly out of the room. “And besides... It's not a big deal – just another sign of how far I have to go before becoming a real person again”.

Steve frowned deeply. Bucky would swear he could almost see the lines etching themselves permanently into his face.

“... and in any case,” Bucky continued, feigning ignorance, “I don't even remember how to, or what I'm missing.”

Steve spluttered slightly at that, before stating firmly that Bucky was a real person, regardless of whether or not he craved physical intimacy.

Bucky sighed, his disbelief obvious on his face. There was a long pause, and a restless silence, before he sighed out “I just want to feel real again, just for a minute or two”.

Steve gave a half-hearted grin. “We could always ask Natasha for recommendations, she's always trying to set me up on dates, I'm sure she could find you a nice gal”.

Bucky sighed again, trying to explain how he could never trust someone like that enough to teach him, could never trust them enough to let his guard down around them enough. He wasn't sure Steve understood, but he had the appearance of looking empathetic enough.

Steve was silent for a minute, looking at war with himself.

“What about me?” he said at last, “do you trust me enough? Because if its that important to you, I'll do it for you.”

Of course Bucky trusted Steve enough. Steve was the only person on the godforsaken planet he could even contemplate trusting enough for anything so deeply personal

Bucky nods slowly, unwilling to speak.

Steve seems to understand. And then he's moving closer to Bucky, across the room until Steve's hands are on his shoulders and they're standing only inches apart.

It's just a simple press of the lips, but it feels like so much more.

Steve's lips feel soft against his, warm and wonderful and so alive. Steve tilts his head slightly, and Bucky feels their lips slide together as if they were designed to be a perfect fit.

When Steve finally pulls away, Bucky feels as if all his breath has been taken too.

His mind is no longer filled with conflict, confusion, or pain... Just a steady thrum of desire and Steve's name, repeated in an infinite loop.

He feels human, for the first time in a long time. Perhaps he's never felt this human before, ever, period. It certainly doesn't seem unlikely.

Steve just grinned in response to Bucky's expression, a grin which looked as blissed-out as he himself felt.

Bucky thought that if this was kissing, he wanted to be doing a whole lot more of it.

\- - -

There were a lot of things Bucky Barnes still can't remember. Because, despite what his mind kept trying to say, he is still the Bucky Barnes – he was able to overcome, despite everything. Because people took the chance to believe in him.

He remembers falling.

He remembers waking up after falling.

He remembers flashes of his previous life, flashes of his comrades, and of Steve.

He remembers two days ago, watching Clint and Natasha spar in Stark's gymnasium.

He remembers four weeks ago, when Tony had grabbed his metal arm and started suggesting dramatic modifications and a paint job.

He remembers yesterday, when he'd woken up in Steve's bed, a biologically-enhanced arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

But theres still so much he can't remember... so many things he can't remember how to do – things he's been slowly relearning because he'd had no need to know how to do for such a very long time. Like how to smile. How to give or receive a hug. How to empathise, and sympathise, and express condolences. How to overcome your past. How to embrace your future. How to love.

You didn't need to know any of those things, didn't even get any of those things when you were just a ruthless killing machine stored away in a cryogenic freezer like good china saved for a special occasion. But he was glad he was getting them now. Because he thinks he wouldn't have his life any other way anymore, despite everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and critique appreciated. Also follow me at [becauseyouaremyalpha](http://www.becauseyouaremyalpha.tumblr.com) on Tumblr for way more fun. Or angst. Not gonna lie, its probably angst at the moment.


End file.
